Advice My Mother Gave Me
by hbananad
Summary: France's advice is surprisingly reliable. PruCan, with France as Canada's 'mother.' Full of awkward fluffiness. Oneshot.


All the advice here has been given to me by my mother at one point or another (except for the shortbread thing. I figured that one out myself…) and it's ALL TRUE. More information on the advice may be found at the bottom. As can the translations, but really, it shouldn't be that hard. I didn't use a lot…

All the German was translated for me by my Grandmother, who's a German professor, but that doesn't mean it's all _right._ If you find something wrong, correct me. Please?

As always, all mistakes should be pointed out so I can fix them. I hate being wrong.

_**Edit - fixed page breaks. **_

**Disclaimer:** Only in my dreams…

***#Advice My Mother Gave Me#***

Canada had some fond and some not-so-fond memories of his time as a colony. France was a decent 'mother' – there were things they disagreed on, but it had been pretty good.

The advice, though… that was a different story. France gave some of the oddest advice ever. It all _worked_ sure, but that didn't make it any less weird. Really, it made you wonder exactly how he had discovered this.

"Always check that the oven is empty before pre-heating it."

"Don't panic, calm down and _then_ tackle the problem"

"Butter burns. Be careful about it."

"Read the ingredients carefully – three cups of sugar and three tablespoons of sugar are two very different things, and three cups of sugar do not make for good shortbread."

"Feel free to kick your brother if he won't stop hitting/poking/kicking/pushing/touching you."

Canada used all of France's advice (he didn't hit his brother a lot, but it worked out anyway), but there was one piece that he didn't understand. He didn't know how or why he was supposed to follow it. Nor did he know exactly what France had meant when he told him,

"When all else fails, when everything is going wrong and you don't know what to do – **cry."**

***##***

It had been a horrible, horrible meeting. **Everything** had gone wrong. Even most of France's advice had been torn down.

Russia was traumatizing people with his water pipe, Greece and Turkey were currently seated in chairs in opposite corners of the room facing the walls in an attempt to prevent them killing each other, Romano was yelling at Spain about something or other, while Spain was cooing about Romano being as adorable as a tomato, England had nearly declared war on America twice and France five times, Prussia had several bruises from Hungary's frying pan, Austria was covered in chocolate sauce courtesy of Prussia, Italy was whining about pasta, Poland was playing with Lithuania's hair, Belarus was sneaking up on Russia, and America was… being America, really.

Canada couldn't figure out exactly how a stick of butter had spontaneously combusted, but his current guess was Korea.

And the whole affair was only halfway over.

He sighed and cuddled Kumajiro closer, deciding to stick it out a while longer.

Somewhere from within the chaos, a book flew out and hit him on the back of the head. Unsurprisingly, no one noticed.

The blond rubbed gingerly at the bump, blinking back tears. But he was lonely, and tired, and no one would listen, and it was just insanity, and his head _hurt_, and he did know what to do, and…

***##***

Prussia poked carefully at one of the bruises Hungary had felt it necessary to give him, and surveyed the poor excuse for a meeting with a small smirk.

Even West had given up, and was currently methodically banging his head against the table while Italy fussed over him.

And then he noticed someone crying, and his good mood faded. It pretty much disappeared when he realized who it was.

Canada – who was almost as adorable and cute as the awesome birdy, if not more – was quietly crying, knees drawn up to his chest and perched delicately on his chair.

Glancing around, Prussia quickly realized that no one else had noticed.

Well. That was decidedly un-awesome of them.

Which was why he, the awesome Prussia, was going to go and comfort Canada, because he was so much more awesome than everyone else.

It had nothing to do with the way his heart squeezed whenever he saw the shy nation smile, not at all.

Really.

***##***

He hadn't even noticed he was crying until he felt someone brush away the tears.

Canada shifted slowly, confused at the fact someone could see him. Perhaps they had mistaken him for America.

That thought somehow struck a nerve and brought on a fresh wave of tears.

"Don't cry. It will be all right. _Mattie, bitte weine nicht!" _Canada froze as he heard his name – his name, not America's, Mattie, not Alfred. Someone was talking to _him_. He looked up to meet the concerned red eyes of Prussia with his own wet ones.

He was in too much shock to protest at all as the silver-haired nation scooped him up as one might a child, spinning around to sit down and settle the smaller nation in his lap.

And as Prussia continued to murmur in German, soft nonsense that was somehow comforting, Canada simply clung to his shirt and continued to cry quietly.

"Ich liebe dich, Mattie…"

***##***

France smiled to himself as he watched the two in their bubble of peace, Prussia smiling gently and petting Canada's hair ad the blond soaked his shirt with tears.

It had certainly taken his 'child' long enough to follow his advice. Prussia would be good for him, if he survived the inevitable yelling and/or throwing of things from various nations (Germany, America, and England all came to mind) and Canada could probably teach the albino a few things about the quiet.

"Good for you, _cheri."_

And then he ducked the boot England had thrown at him, laughing as he re-joined the chaos.

_-When all else fails, when everything is going wrong and you don't know what to do – __**cry.**__ Someone will notice and help you.-_

***##***

It does work! I promise.

The crying advice is traditionally given before she sends me out on my own, especially for travel. Seriously, if you're lost or something goes wrong, all you have to do is stand there and cry and someone is guaranteed to come up and help.

Works best if you're a girl, but still should work anyway…

Translations –

'bitte weine nicht' – please don't cry (German)

'Ich libe dich' – I love you (also German)

'cheri' – beloved / darling / dear [general term of affection] (Probably incorrectly used French)


End file.
